Better Luck Next Time
by Tomorrow's War
Summary: The Winchester Brothers discover why it's bad luck to be working the same case as John Constantine. One-Shot, No Slash. Takes place Mid Supernatural S4.


_The Winchesters take a case that should be refreshingly simple, only to find themselves beaten to the punch by a certain John Constantine. _

**Better Luck Next Time**

Hellblazer/Supernatural Crossover

Music was playing loudly in the bar, blaring out of the loudspeakers, and it was a sound that Dean Winchester was all too familiar with. Rock music - the perfect driving music for the perfect roadside, middle of nowhere, backwater haunt – the place that you only go to when you're on a journey and in need of something to drink – nowhere that you'd go to for a day trip. The seats were mostly empty – three barflies were drinking away on the stools, trading tales. As Dean received his drinks, he heard one claim something about his adventures on a spaceship. Probably bullshit, but his fellow barfly mates were too drunk to care by this point and if he wasn't here on a case with Sam, Dean probably would have felt like joining in. It helped that person currently tending to the bar was female, and attractive.

As Dean made his way back to Sam, he accidently brushed against a blonde-haired, trench-coat wearing man who had the distinctive smell of cigarettes on his body. "Watch it, Asshole," Dean whispered under his breath.

"Up yours, mate," the man gave a quick retort, with a thick accent that Dean recognised as distinctively non-American, "Some people are trying to drink, here."

Before Dean could muster come back with something quirky or put his drink down to punch the guy, Sam – who had just finished researching their case, looked at Sam from over the top of his laptop. "Hey, Dean."

"What is it, Sammy?"

"The leads that we've been following up on," he responded, being so used to the childhood nickname that there was no longer a rebuttal thrown in his direction. "There was a house, not far from here. Abandoned back in the eighties, after the whole family mysteriously committed suicide. People in the area don't go near it – haven't ever since. There's a kind of, bad aura hanging over the place."

"So what? Why do we have to check it out now?" Dean asked, sitting down opposite him. "Unless something's started happening again?"

"Yeah. Two weeks ago, a family of three – two parents and a kid – moved into the house despite the warnings. From New York," he added, by way of an explanation, as Dean took a sip of his beer. "Unfamiliar with the surroundings."

"And let me guess, they committed suicide as well?"

"Not quite," explained Sam, showing the laptop to Dean, which displayed a clear photograph of the family underneath a typical tabloid headline. All had one thing in common – blue eyes, blonde hair. _"_Take a look at this. Parents found slaughtered in bed. Clear acts of murder."

"And what about the Kid? Did they find his body?"

"Never found," Sam said. "So I did some cross-referencing on the case in 1982. Turns out the Kid's body weren't found until three days later, _after _the parents had been killed. And guess what day it is today."

"Uh, July 21st?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow.

Sam gave Dean a look. "Oh, right. The Third Day?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "At least, as far as these articles say. I've estimated that we've got at least four hours before the kid shows up, assuming we're dealing with the same thing."

"And any clues on what we're dealing with?"

"A ghost," explained Sam. "I know it sounds simple given what we're dealing with right now but for once in our lives, I think it might just be an open-shut case. Especially since I did some further research, looking back sixteen years before 1982, on a hunch."

"You went all the way back to 1956 based on a hunch?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "And guess what I found. Exactly the same situation. A further sixteen years back, the same thing happens again. Family dead. Kid shows up a day later, after the initial bodies have been found, also dead. But this was the first family that built the place."

"So you think it's got some connection to that family? Like, maybe the kid was bullied or something?"

"That's exactly what I thought," Sam said. "And turns out it was. The kid and the mother were Irish, immigrates. The mother's first husband died back home, so she remarries when they got to the States. Problem is, the new dad is racist. Didn't find out that they were Irish until after the wedding – mother hid the accent that well."

"All of this is recorded?"

"Yeah," explained Sam. "It's common folklore around here, in fact. What the residents use to warn families of three away from the Manor House"

"What happens if you're not a family of three?"

"There have been no records of a family of three ever moving into the Manor House," responded Sam. "But anyway, the kid was relentlessly bullied by the new stepdad. Until one day the dad took it too far, and hung the kid in the basement." 

"And the kid comes back to life and kills the parents?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "This is why they attribute it to Suicides despite the legends. Get this – the kid's time of death, in all incidents, was recorded _before _the parents."

"So the Ghost kills the kid first and resurrects him to off Mom and Dad?"

"Looks that way," Sam said, watching Dean finish off his drink. He finished his own slightly later.

"Man, that was good," admitted Dean, wiping his mouth. "Now let's hit the road, Sam. We got a ghost to put down. Just like the old days – a nice _simple _case."

"I couldn't help but overhear ya, mate," Dean turned around to find the speaker – already knowing that it belonged to the trenchcoat wearing guy who had knocked his drink over earlier. "Hey, Sam."

"Mr. Constantine?"

"Yeah, Nice to see you again mate."

"Wait a sec, you know this guy?"

"Yeah," Sam admitted with a shrug. "He was a cover teacher at one of the schools that we went to. Back in the day. The one that blew up after we left."

"Oh," Dean said with a shrug.

"Well, that was me," said Constantine with a shrug, walking past Dean and Sam. "And yer Dad. Me and Johnny go a long way back. How's the old man, by the way? We lost touch when he left."

Dean shared a glance at Sam, a few moments of awkward and uncomfortable silence followed. Constantine latched on to why they were solemn, quickly. "Sorry for your loss, mates."

And then he called to the toilet on near the exit. "Hey, Joe! You done in there, or what?" 

A kid dashed out, moments later, and ran towards Constantine. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Dean, recognising the photo from what Sam had showed him earlier, turned at the younger Winchester, in disbelief. And then back at the kid.

And then back at Constantine. "Wait a sec. Isn't that...?"

"Yup. That's the kid from the Manor. Ghost's dead. Taking him back to town when I needed a fag and he needed a shit. Mutual agreement. Didn't think it would take him this bloody long."

"Charming," Dean said with a grin. "Dean Winchester."

"John Constantine," he said with a smile, and swaggering, lead the kid out of the bar, leaving a speechless Dean and Sam behind him. "Well, guess I better get going. Better luck next time, Winchesters."

**END.**


End file.
